June escaped me, the end of July is hours away, lets have a mid-summer cup of coffee. The below quote is our summer.
“Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
The above words validated my disorientation this summer. Change is painful, even when it is change for the good. The change that comes from loss is a torment. I am a mixed mess this summer and here is what I have been:
Mourning: Micah, our best friend and constant companion, was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Symptoms escalated and he was suffering. We had him put to sleep in the most beautiful and gentle way possible. He was my emotional support dog without the vest. I am lost without him.
Fostering: Willow, the tiny, emaciated German Shepherd puppy we fostered was adopted by the most incredible couple. A perfect match with lots of love.
Discovering: I still cannot attend large church gatherings with music and people. We attended a large church service and it was beyond a struggle to hear music and be out in public. Two songs from Justin’s funeral were sung and hearing them started the flashback to his funeral – it happens, it is normal, it is just one of the fall-outs of bereavement. It was a reminder that we can’t go back to our former lives. We move forward incorporating many changes, changes that tear us from a life we knew to a life we are discovering.
Purging: We rented a dumpster. We were only going to have it for two weeks, we are on week five. The first run through is easy, it was going through the boxes of Justin’s childhood that was heart rending. We let go of it all. The attic is done. The basement and garage are showing huge improvement. This has been a thoughtful and deliberate purging, stopping for difficult conversations, taking breaks so the brain can reset, and sometimes going to get Chinese food to restore balance. We are entering the last quarter of our lives, time to let go.
Repairing: I have learned I don’t like remodeling or major home repairs. We opted for contractors as the work is extensive. The upstairs bathroom was beyond redemption, it was gutted. Windows are falling apart, they are on order. Kitchen floor is being held together with packing tape, new flooring is on order. Front door, on order. I find that I prefer living with things the way they were, non-functional and falling apart, in comparison to living with the disorder and stress of remodeling work. It is needed work, we certainly could not sell the house in the shape it was in, and I want to be ready to let go of the house. Not that we have plans to move, but I am working on detachment from all material goods. Except running shoes, I need a good pair of running shoes.
Reading: Not much. Struggling with reading again. Grief screws with my reading ability. Big print and short sentences work for me right now. I go back to small bites of reading and authors that I have found nourishing and revisit old friends like Lucy Maud Montgomery.
Writing: I am writing, at least one essay a week. I can’t write when the contractors are in the house, I can’t focus. But I try to get some words down. There is too much room under my desk. Micah would tuck himself under my desk or on top of the air conditioning vent right behind my chair. I miss rubbing my feet in his fur. I miss him. I would like to go away, just me, and write until I am empty. There are a lot of words crowding each other in my brain.
Submitting: I am submitting a lot of pieces to all sorts of places. And I have been receiving the nicest rejection letters. They don’t bother me like they used to. I think I have embraced the reality that it isn’t me that is being rejected, and writing gets rejected for all sorts of reasons. It has been very satisfying to hit the send key. I am going to keep writing for me.
Photographing: I started my first 365 Project on June 1st. What a bright spot in my universe! I have met people from all over the world, I get to see their cool photos of places that I can only dream of seeing, and they have been the kindest bunch of folks I have ever met! I realize that I am a bit of recluse, my challenge for 365 has been to comb our tiny square of earth for things and creatures to photograph. And nature has not disappointed me. I have seen a hawk, chipmunks, butterflies, extraordinary bugs, and I have noticed the light more, where it falls, how pretty even the most humble weed is when the light is right.
North Wind Photos and Cards: A work in progress. We have decided on a printer for the greeting cards after perusing several samples of different prints and finishes. We tried out a half dozen pens and find that simple ball point pens work best on the writing surface rather than gel pens. I have new card collections in mind. It is hard to make headway some days. Every single file I open has pictures of Micah. He would dance when he heard me get my camera out and he was always nearby for me grab quick captures of him. So unexpected, I thought we had years left with him.
I need more coffee so I will close this note. I would love to hear about your summer, if you struggle with home projects too, tell me about the pets you have loved, the places you visited, the loved ones you are missing.
Here is to August, may it be a month of completed projects and long summer evenings.
Love, Terri
Wow, your July has been full of so many events and so many emotional pulls. I am sorry that you lost your MIcah, I know that loss made letting Willow go a little harder. I am hopeful that August will bring you completed projects and things that fulfill you. My summer has been busy but it is hard to say what I have been busy doing. I am looking forward to August and gaining some control over things.
Thank you Janeane for the gift of your time and lovely note. I continue to reflect on your tremendous piece on our First Lady’s speech and business practices. Such good life lessons, I am very appreciative for you sharing your insight and wisdom. Wishing you a peace filled August, may it be a good month!
I need a dumpster. I somehow accumulate so much stuff. I go through it and get rid of things and donate a lot but it still piles up. I will be doing a lot more getting rid of stuff now after losing my son last week. I feel a real cleaning coming up.
Hugs!
oh Renee. I don’t know you, but my heart has just stopped in it’s tracks to read your words here. I am so very sorry. So glad you were able to write these words and reach out here. Terri’s words and heart have been a balm to so many.
Dear Renee, again, I am so sorry for the loss of your son. I am always here if you want to rage, scream, cry, vent, you are not alone. You will most likely receive all sorts of advice on how to grieve, the only thing I can share is that this is your journey. Your grief, your way, your timetable, you do what works for Renee, not what others think you should do. I actually had to ask folks to stop “shoulding” on me. Wishing you some gentle moments as you begin your journey. Be ever so kind to yourself. Much love to you and your house.
Terri.
More arrows to my heart here with your words. Everything is overflowing….my heart, my eyes….oh. Your words find me where I am. I have been gathering some photos of Micah and sharing them with a select, tender few…..I just keep asking why?…..I know the answer will not come. But you needed him so. I hate looking at my September calendar with those “Micah” dates crossed out…..tears, tears. Love to you my friend….today.
Oh Jackie, thank you. It is a month today. I could not sleep last night. Thank you my friend for loving him and understanding. I love you so.
What a summer, Terri. I’m so glad you’re writing and submitting without pause, no matter the response. We do indeed – we must – write for ourselves. But I believe your work deserves to be read widely so I hope to see your essays published soon. I know they will get out there. The dumpster work sounds deeply challenging. And trying to return to church. And reading. I had trouble with that too, oh and I can’t stand chaos and construction in my home either. I hope yours ends soon. Finally, there are places to go to write, like the Highlights Foundation Unworkshops. You pick and choose your days and it’s a beautiful and nurturing environment. Sending you love.
Thank you Dana. Your encouraging words are a gift to me today! I am going to look up the Highlights Foundation – I love the term “unworkshops.” Thank you. Wishing you a peace filled weekend. Much love to you and your house also.
Wow. After a summer like that, I think it is time for a vacation. 🙂 One that includes beach sand and ocean waves– but no people (I know– hard to find that at any beach right now). I am so sorry about Micah. I really resonated with what Jackie wrote to you– you needed him– I am not one to ask “Why?” but I really have been with regard to that event. I just want you to have lots of good things– ALL the time– because you have had enough heartache. ENOUGH. I love how you keep submitting your work and have such a great attitude about it– and I agree with the other voices here that your work should be “out there”- your writing is beautiful and moving and brilliant and healing. <3
Dear Thaeda, yes, vacation. six weeks away. I can breathe through this for six weeks. Thank you for your encouraging words, we keep at it, yes? If I close my eyes I can hear the ocean and feel the sand, I am promising myself that I will sit for as long as I want and just watch the waves. Much love you.
WOW! You have had one heck of a summer. I totally understand your comment about going to church services. I don’t know what it is about the hymns and being inside a church building but it brings back a lot of grief.
I am glad you are taking your time with everything such as going through Justin’s things – it’s all a part of the grief process. Take it slow.
Enjoy your writing time. Hugs to you!
Hello! I hope you are having a good summer. Thank you so much for stopping by and reading and writing such a lovely note. It is always good to know one is not alone, there is something about church buildings that rake up stuff! We are about ready to take a break from everything and just breathe for a bit!
Hugs to you. It took years after my Mom died for my Dad and I to start going through her belongings. I can not imagine what it was like for him – or, for you. Beautiful post, and I have shared.
Thank you Alana, both for the gift of your time to visit and write a note and for sharing the blog post. It does take years, those years feel like minutes sometimes. I know I can hardly fathom how long it has been already. Thank you again. I hope you have a beautiful Sunday.
Terri,
I hurt for you. Sometimes the universe asks too much of us. And I think if and when you do hear those songs, cry your eyes out. I still do, missing my mother. But Terri, there are no words. I feel the gifts in
your post. I hope they help you — and the coffee and a virtual hug from me.
Dear Beth, I do feel your kind hug, thank you for your beautiful note. Thank you for the gift of your time to sit and have coffee with me. Wishing you a very peace filled Sunday.